


Precautions

by SwanFloatieKnight



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Dragons, Gen, Height Differences, I Don't Even Know, Problems, Strategy & Tactics, The Lonely Mountain, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwanFloatieKnight/pseuds/SwanFloatieKnight
Summary: One could think the dwarves of Erebor to be careless, reckless even, that they do not listen to the warnings of their elven allies about dragons and take no precautions.But do they really?
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Precautions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecopperriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecopperriver/gifts).



> Thank you for giving me this idea! :D It was a lot of fun to write

A/N: I posted this fic on Ao3, and on Ao3 alone. If you read this on any other website or platform, please consider that I did not consent to this.

* * *

There had been many who had tried to warn them. Some of the men as well, but mostly the elves. They had told the dwarves to beware of dragons, that their wealth would attract them and that they would be powerless to do anything about it. Dragons were mighty beasts, dangerous and unable to reason with. If you ever had a dragon problem, there was no real chance you would ever get rid of them again.

The elves had warned them, told them that they had made their own fair share of experience with dragons, back in Beleriand. There would be nothing they would be able to do. Not even they would be able to help them.

But the dwarves had just laughed. They would not go as far as to accuse the elves of just being after their riches themselves, but whatever they intended it would get them nowhere.

At first it was Thranduil talking to Thrór. He tried to warn him of the dangers, the fire, the poisonous fumes the dragons breathed out. How they all would suffer. Thrór could only laugh at this.

The next in line was Thrain whom they tried to talk into talking reason into his father. But Thrain merely shook his head. “He is the king,” he told the elven ambassadors. “He will know what’s best for the kingdom.”

And Thorin, young Thorin, who had not even come of age yet, he only laughed, just like his grandfather, when the elves tried to talk to him about the matter. “Did you not hear what my father and grandfather told you? This is not your concern. But if it calms your conscience, Erebor is definitely not defenceless. We have taken our precautions.”

After these talks the elves gave it up. There clearly was no reason to talk into the dwarves, no matter how hard they tried. If they did not want to see the danger, if they wanted to walk into it with blind eyes, that was not the problem of the elves. They had tried to warn them. There was nothing more they could do. If the dragons came their conscience would be clear.

And the dragons came.

It was a lovely day in autumn, the sun was shining brightly and not a cloud could be seen. Suddenly, the wind picked up, seemingly out of nowhere, a real storm coming down from the north, and the dwarves of Erebor knew what that meant.

Their alarm bells sounded, the gates were shut and locked, all their people brought to safety before they even so much as saw the first glimpse of Smaug’s red wings in the sky. There were a few dwarves who watched out for him on one of the balconies, Thorin among them, and he was the one who started talking to the dragon once he was close enough.

“So you have come to steal from us, haven’t you?”

The dragon only roared and breathed his fire in their direction, but Thorin ducked behind the balustrade and escaped unharmed.

“Good luck! You won’t get a single coin from us!”

Smaug didn’t even listen to him, he made straight for the front gate of the mountain. Let the dwarf talk, he could still eat him later. Together with the others. When he had conquered his treasure. After he had made his way into the mountain. Almost humming in anticipation Smaug approached the gate –

Only to find that it was locked, and on top of that it was small. Very small. Far too small for a dragon of his size to crawl through it. Not even when he had been a young dragon, a few centuries ago, freshly hatched, he would have been able to fit through these gates. They were dwarf-sized. Of course they were dwarf-sized, these were dwarves who lived in this mountain. Why hadn’t he thought of this before.

Smaug roared. If he couldn’t make his way through the gate he would have to smash it in. No problem, he had broken his way into a lot of palaces and treasure hoards before. He would crack open this mountain with ease.

But he didn’t. The stone was solid and strong, there was nothing he could melt with his fire, nothing he could break with his strength. No matter how many futile attempts he spent running against the tiny front gates, how much he tried to rip holes into the walls of the mountain with his teeth and claws, the stone would not give in. The only thing he achieved was a broken tooth and a crushed claw. It was painful. He gave up.

In anger and frustration Smaug smote his tail against the walls of the mountain again, but to no avail. The stone was too strong, it would not give in. Finally, after he had burned down a good third of the pine trees on the sides of the mountain in his fury he decided that there was nothing more he could do. The small town of men in front of the gates was of little interest to him. They had hardly any riches worth stealing. He couldn’t care less about them.

The cheering dwarves on their balcony angered them, but there was nothing he could do about them. He had tried to burn them once, he would not ruin his reputation further by failing to roast them a second time. It was a bad day for him. The dwarves had won. Smaug turned his back.

He flew off, back to the north whence he had come, to nurse his hurting claw as well as wounded pride. He already hungered for revenge, but at the same time had no idea how he should ever have it. Dwarves that were clever enough to build small gates so that he could not enter the mountain would certainly come up with even better defence strategies in the future. Except for the fact that they didn’t need them. There was no way Smaug would ever get into this mountain, not unless they lowered their defences and built broader and higher gates. But Smaug knew how dwarves were. That would never happen. They had defeated him.

A dwarf-inhabited mountain with gates too small for him to pass through. Who would have thought.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave me a comment and Kudos :D


End file.
